


Love at First Sound

by BohemianBeth



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Phantom of the Opera Fusion, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Crossdressing, Curse Breaking, Curses, M/M, Multi, Period Typical Attitudes, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22362367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BohemianBeth/pseuds/BohemianBeth
Summary: John Deacon was born cursed and only his soulmate can save him. When his father passes away, John is sent to the Rhye Opera House where he will live and work as an ensemble dancer. John is determined to keep his curse a secret because that was the last promise he made to his father. Only this opera house has secrets of its own. Shortly after arriving, John discovers that the facility is haunted by a mysterious phantom who goes by the name of Mr. Mercury.OrDeacury/Maylor soulmate AU loosely based on Phantom of the Opera
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 24
Kudos: 39





	1. All Dead All Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *Minding my own business doing schoolwork*
> 
> My Brain: Stay calm. I'm holding you hostage. Don't scream. Now drop everything you're doing and start writing this new Soulmate AU and nobody will get hurt!
> 
> Me: What? No! School is important! Besides, I have too many Maylor and Deacury soulmate AUs. My readers are probably sick of it. I'm just gonna focus on the Blind AU mostly for now. Having multiple stories + school is too much!
> 
> Brain: This is the Blind AU...well sort of. The focus is on Deacury and also it's lowkey based on Phantom of the Opera.
> 
> Me: Well shit! Now I actually wanna write this thing.

_John's POV_

I should have foreseen this, but it was nonetheless traumatizing. The signs had been dancing in front of me for nearly a year now. Father always came home with the most captivating stories from the Rhye Opera House where he worked as a composer. I'd sit and listen wide eyed, imaging what the outside world was like. He'd talk endlessly about his friends, the performers, the music, and of course the ghostly tales of the phantom. While most believed the opera house was haunted, Father preferred to think of this mysterious ghost as a guardian angel. An angel of music, he'd call this spirit.

Lately, however, Father's tales shifted from whimsical to dismal. This season the influenza, much like my horrid touch, spared no man. The disease was quick and merciless. While most blamed the wrath of the Phantom for the fatality of the leading soprano, the influenza was confirmed to have claimed the lives of many more dancers, and most recently Father's best friend and colleague, Lord May.

"Harold was a good man, John. My heart weeps for his loss. And I feel so horrible for his son. I've told you about Brian, haven't I? Bright boy with a heart of gold. Now that damn inheritance law is going to leave him and his mother sleeping on the sidewalk unless he finds himself a wife. Harold's entire estate will be gone by the end of the month if this arranged marriage doesn't work out. So sad. That boy has to lose his dear father and now must marry a stranger. I believe the Taylors are arranging something. They have a son and a daughter, but that daughter is much too young in my opinion. She may only be 15 or 16 at the most."

"And how old is Brian?" I inquired.

"23, 24 maybe? I'm unsure. It's a shame what both those kids are going through. They're too young for any of this." Father sighed, and it gave way into a cough.

"Father, you're ill. Let me fetch you some water." I journeyed to the well and returned with a fresh glass of water for him. Father was still coughing when I returned. I worried for him. Without Father, I had nothing and no one. He was the only person in this world who loved me unconditionally. The inheritance law dictated that property can only be transferred into the name of married men so it could be passed down to the next generation. I knew finding a wife was out of the question for me, so that would leave me homeless. The state would claim the house and I'd be forced out.

"Thank you for the water. You're a good boy, John. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Father grasped my gloved hands, a thin peace of fabric separating him from death itself.

"Father, what's going to happen to me?" I asked tentatively. "If you die, will I be sent to one of those horrid asylums for cursed individuals?"

"I'm not going to die, my dear boy. I would never leave you." He promised. "I'm just tired. Been working endlessly on this composition for the opera. Have I told you my latest story about the angel of music?"

"No, but I'd love to hear it." I adored Father's stories, especially ones about our angel. I didn't understand why people would fear such a musical genius described in these tales.

"Last night I was working by candlelight writing this latest score. I was so exhausted that I just fell asleep on the spot. When I woke up, the candle was blown out, but the score was rewritten. It wasn't mine, but it was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. He left a single rose behind so I knew he was to thank for this masterpiece. When I expressed my gratitude, he sang it for me, and I swear that voice gave me goosebumps."

"And you still haven't seen him?" I pressed fascinated by the invisible man.

"No. The angel of music never shows himself. But I know he's looking out for us." Father said. "I tell him about you and your mother of course, may she rest in peace up in heaven with him and the other angels."

I gulped. Did the angel know that I was a devil? "What did you tell him? Does he know that I'm responsible for Mother's death?"

"John Richard Deacon, you take that back! You know very well that you had nothing to do with what happened to your mother. Women die in childbirth all the time. It's unrelated to the baby itself. She would have loved you, sweetheart. I know she would have. I see her in you. You have her eyes and her laugh. She'd be so proud of the caring intelligent young man you've become. Now let me rest. I feel weak."

"I love you, Father. Have a good sleep." I put my gloved fingers to my lips and then the tips of the gloves to his cheek. Direct kisses were fatal.

"I'll always love you, John, my baby, my pride and joy." He yawned. I crept out of the room, stifling back a sob as Father coughed.

His symptoms got progressively worse as the year dragged on. It seemed every night he was running a fever, and the once energetic man was worn down and peaked. Father was so very skinny like a single gust of wind could knock him down. I feared for the worst but I remained in denial.

"Did I tell you that the Taylor girl who Brian married is the new lead soprano?" He coughed, stirring his spoon around the bowl but not even attempting to eat.

"Father, please try to eat your soup. It will make you feel better." I insisted.

"I'm not hungry." He sighed. "Let me tell you more about my day. Don't you want to hear about the wedding? I was skeptical about the young couple, but I've got to say they seem legitimately happy together. Brian is a lucky man. Clare is very beautiful. She looks older than 16. Maybe I got her age confused with Roger and she's actually the older one. I didn't get a chance to meet Roger. He wasn't at the wedding."

"That's odd. Why would he miss his own sister's wedding?" I wondered.

"Winnifred said he decided to move to a convent and become a religious man. I don't blame the lad. You've got to find something to believe in when you're blind like that."

"I can't imagine a fate worse than that." Even my own curse was bearable compared to blindness. I was lonely, but at least I could see.

"Brian's gonna continue living in the opera house barracks with his new wife, but their families get to keep Harold's property now. The Taylors are selling their farm I hear. Michael and Winifred are going to move in with Ruth in the manor..A-And Roger like I said is..." Father couldn't complete his thought because he had another coughing spasm, this one so bad blood spilled out of his mouth.

"FATHER!" I cried. "No! No!" I got him a tissue. "Please, Father, don't leave me!"

"M-My boy...Oh John! I-I'm afraid...I promise we'll always be together, just not physically."

"Father, you can't die." I sobbed. "What will I do without you?"

"T-The angel of music...w-will be there for you." Father closed his eyes, but he was still breathing thank goodness. "I don't have much time, John, but listen to me very carefully. I've made arrangements for you. When I pass, you'll live in the barracks of the opera house. You can be a dancer there. I know how much you love to dance."

"F-Father...I-I've never left our farm. I don't know the first thing about...about the world or the opera house or...living on my own. Father, I'll be so lonely without you. I'll have no one. Y-You're the only one." I cried.

"Y-You'll have the angel of music." He repeated. "John...there is a life for you d-despite what you may think. Y-You are not a monster, my boy. Ignore what the world tells you about your curse. I love you always."

"Father, if anyone finds out about my curse...they'll put me to death...or worse." I shuddered knowing only horror stories of what people with curses had to endure. If I didn't have such a compassionate father who showed me love, I don't know where I'd be. How could anyone else find room in their heart for a killer like me?

"Promise me, you'll keep your curse a secret...Y-You'll have a normal l-life....a-a life you deserve. Just wear your gloves. Always wear your gloves. D-Don't let anyone know."

"I promise, Father." I vowed.

"Now, put me out of my misery, boy. I-I want to go peacefully. Y-Your curse can be a gift."

I shook my head, tears spilling out of my eyes. "D-Don't make me do this. I can't kill you, Father. I love you."

"Y-You're not killing me, my boy...Y-You're reuniting me with your mother. P-Please...Before I die, I want to finally want to shake my son's hand. I-I know how much you long...to have skin to skin contact with another human."

"Y-Yeah...but I don't want anyone to die." I shook my head. "Father, this isn't a gift. I refuse. You'll have to die naturally."

"Take off your gloves, John!" Father never raised his voice. Was this really his dying wish? He was clearly suffering. I couldn't him deny him this. I removed my gloves. An ugly circle rested on the back of my hand about the size of a quarter. An insidious poem that haunted my every waking moment from the day I was born was scrawled inside the birthmark. ' _You bring death to everything you touch; find your soulmate to reverse this luck.'_ About 1/3rd of the population had soulmates and were forever cursed unless they were united, but the odds of meeting your soulmate were like that of finding a needle in a haystack. At best the curse disabled you, at worst...

"Goodbye, Father. I love you so much." I bawled, touching his hand for the first time in my life, instantly killing him. Father perished in my arms with a smile as I cried.

So on that warm summer's eve of 1871, just shy of my 20th birthday, Lord Arthur Deacon passed away, and my life was forever changed.

***

I was numb for the passing days. I knew nothing outside of this farm and my father. He had protected me from the outside world. People with curses were sent away to be abused and even killed. Society looked down upon them like scum.

Friends of my father, mainly those residing in the Rhye Opera House, came around bringing me food and expressing their condolences. They tried to give me hugs, but I had to remain rigid in their arms. Once false move and I could accidentally make contact with their skin.

I wasn't a killer. Or at least I didn't want to be. My mother died giving birth to me. That wasn't uncommon, so it may have not been my fault. But then how did you explain the deaths of the midwives, and the doctor? My toxic skin. That was how you explained it.

With each new guest, I feared the arrival of the statesmen to claim my farm. Father said he made arrangements for me to move to the Rhye Opera House, but I was unprepared. I didn't even know where it was located. And I couldn't mount Father's horse because I'd kill it in the process. Feeding the farm animals without touching them was difficult enough, but I doubt I could ride one.

Today I was greeted with a new stranger who was younger than the rest. If I had to guess he was in his mid-twenties. He was tall with long poofy hair. "John?"

I nodded. "T-That's me."

I winced when the man hugged me. _'Don't move a muscle!'_ I screamed internally. "I'm so sorry, so sorry." For some reason, he seemed the most genuine out of everyone who had stopped by. "I knew Arthur. He was such a good man, and he loved you so much. He spoke so highly of you. What a loss! I don't know what to say!"

"Um...thanks." I delicately pulled away.

"I brought you something. I doubt it will make you feel any better, but I didn't know what else to do." He presented me with a red guitar. "Before my father passed away, he and I worked on a project creating our own guitar. I got through my grief by building replicas of the one we made together."

_'Harold's brilliant. You know what he's doing? He's building a guitar for his son. I wish I had the smarts to do the same for you.'_

_'Don't be silly. I'm sure Harold is great, but you're the best father I could ever ask for.'_

"You're Brian, Lord May's son." I realized.

"Yes. Sorry. We haven't formally met. With the way Arthur would speak of you so often I thought we had. Anyway, I hope some music will help lighten your mood. Arthur says-- _said_ \--you know how to play guitar. He loved going on and on about how talented you are." Brian rambled.

"Yes. I play guitar and piano too. I also dance." I said shyly.

"You made your father very proud, John, and I'm sorry you had to lose him." Brian said.

"I'm sorry you had to lose your father too." I murmured.

"It's a terrible thing." He agreed. "I wish I could stay longer, but we're visiting Cla--We're visiting my brother-in-law at the convent. My wife is very worried about her--I mean him."

Brian seemed affable and I didn't want to be accusatory, but something didn't add up about Roger going to live in a convent. Why would he miss his sister's wedding? The way Brian was stammering over his words made it seem like he was hiding something. Or maybe I was looking into it too much. I didn't even know Roger or Clare and this was my first time meeting Brian. So it was none of my business. All I should focus on was how to keep myself alive without Father. "I appreciate you stopping by. Thanks, Brian."

"Of course. If there's anything you need at all please reach out to me. Arthur was like a second father to me so that makes you like my little brother." Brian said. He seemed sincere, but I still felt so alone. Even more so when Brian left.

Father's absence was killing me inside. I expected to go into his study and find him in his chair with his crooked glasses reading a book by candlelight. Seeing the empty chair instead was devastating.

The following morning two men arrived at the farm. I prepared myself for that final goodbye of this farm and all the fond memories it held.

"Good day, Mr. Deacon. I am Lord Reid and this is Master Foster." The thinner of the two men introduced himself. His eyes were deceitful but Master Foster had a gruff menacing look about him altogether. "We are the owners of the Rhye Opera House. Per your father's wishes you shall be coming to live with us. Gather your things. The horse and carriage is prepared for our departure."

I left that farm for my new life with just a single suitcase with a few clothes and Father's belongings. I avoided the gazes of my company and cast my eyes downward as we drove away.

"I like this one." Foster remarked. "Quiet. Obedient. Knows his place. Deacon taught his kid good manners."

What kind of hell was I getting myself into? I hadn't got a clue. As long as my secret was safe I'd be okay. The angel of music was on my side after all.

"Before we arrive, I'd like to assure you that any rumors you've heard are false. I can assure you the Rhye Opera House is not haunted." Reid announced. "There is no Phantom of the Opera. It's all made up nonsense to drive us out of business."

"I swear if I ever get my hands on Mr. Mercury I'll tie a noose around his neck." Foster blurted. Reid elbowed him.

"Who's Mr. Mercury?" I asked.

"Why don't you shut your mouth? You're here to dance and make us money." Foster shouted.

I shrank back in my seat. Reid softened. "Be nice to the lad, Ray. Poor thing just lost his father. I know you didn't care for Arthur, but there's no need to take it out on his boy."

"To be fair I don't care much for anyone." Foster said.

Note to self: Foster is not one to cross. I didn't say a word for the rest of the ride.

The opera house was much grander than I expected. Gold and marble surrounded me. Everywhere I looked was a magnificent staircase or door leading to another room. It would take weeks to explore everything. How could I ever bring myself to call this place home?

A blonde girl in a pink ballerina leotard approached us as soon as we entered. She curtseyed. "Lord Reid, Master Foster. Mr. Mercury welcomes you back and says he's looking forward to seeing Arthur's son join the dance ensemble. He wishes not to be disturbed at the moment as he is giving Lady May vocal lessons. Suggestions for tonight's performance should be expected later." The girl gave two roses to the noblemen and a note stating everything she just said signed Mr. Mercury. The cursive handwriting was eerily familiar.

"Thank you, Mary." Reid said politely.

Foster crumpled up the letter and tossed it aside. "Who does that man think he is? And he doesn't even have the balls to ever show his face! As if leaving roses can make up for harassing us."

Could Mr. Mercury be my angel of music? Perhaps I had seen his handwriting on some of the scores Father would bring home.

Reid and Foster continued giving me their tour with Foster grumbling inaudibly under his breath the entire time.

"Ahh, there's our stunning crowd pleaser!" Reid exclaimed and Foster wolf whistled as a gorgeous girl walked by. She was dressed in a frilly pink frock falling just below her knees exposing a bare pair of legs. It was considered impolite for women not to wear stockings but I didn't mind it in the least. The girl's cascading blonde hair framed bright blue eyes and full pink lips. What a doll!

"At least Mr. Mercury has good taste in women. I'll give him that much." Foster laughed. "I bet you sang for him real good, huh Taylor?"

"It's May now." She retorted in a raspy voice that did not match her appearance at all.

"You can hide behind your new husband all you want, but we all know you're a little slut, aren't you, Clare?" Foster taunted.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" She snapped.

"Lady May, please, a pretty thing like you shouldn't have a filthy mouth like that." Reid reprimanded. "You're the star of our show. You have an image to uphold."

"If you hadn't noticed we've been sold out every night thanks to me." Clare said. "Now Mr. Mercury said I need my rest before the show, so if you'll excuse me."

Foster made a grab for her behind, but I was a gentleman and wouldn't allow it. I used my gloved hand to knock his out of the way. "What is wrong with you? She's married and I doubt she wants creeps like you touching her even if she wasn't married. You have no right to lay a hand on her." I knew from experience that unwelcomed touches could be deadly.

Clare applauded me. "You should listen to him Foster. Wise up or else your lead soprano and guitarist might quit on you and then you'll lose all that money you love. Hi by the way my name is R **—** Clare Tayl **—** I mean May. Sorry. Just got married recently."

Not used to dealing with a lady so bold and forthright I blurted. "Hi my name is John Richard Deacon and I was born on 19 August 1851."

"You're Arthur's son." She smiled in recognition. "Welcome."

"Stop being such a flirtatious hoe, you little cock tease!" Foster shouted.

"Fuck off! I'm just introducing myself to John. Why is everything considered flirting when you're a girl?" Clare cried. "I know for a fact that if I were a man this wouldn't be an issue."

"You can't know that for a fact, sweetheart. You've never been a man before." Reid challenged.

"And women can't know facts either." Foster grumbled. "They can't know anything with their puny women brains."

"Lord give me strength not to punch these assholes." Clare muttered.

"If you wanna pray and act all virtuous you might as well join your blind brother in the convent." Foster chortled.

"Seriously don't do that. You're our star and we love having money **—** I mean sold out shows with a devoted audience because of you." Reid whispered to Clare before we continued on our tour.

***

So far so good. I clutched the key to my dormitory anxiously. I didn't like the idea of having a roommate. Aside from the opera house owners, everyone I encountered so far had been friendly. All I had to do was keep my curse a secret. How hard could it be?

I unlocked Room 39 and stepped inside. Brian was casually seated on one of the two beds strumming his guitar. Well that was a relief, at least I wouldn't be rooming with a stranger. As his fingers trailed across the strings I noticed a circular marking on the back of Brian's hand. He was like me! Only instead of a sinister poem 3 letters rested in the center of the mark RMT.

"John, what are you doing here?" Brian looked up.

"Um...Master Foster said to go to my room and not come out unless I'm eat or rehearsing." I summed up.

"Ah, you need help finding your room. Very well." Brian swooped his long legs off the bed and stood up. "I understand how dizzying these underground hallways can be. It's very easy to get lost. What's your room number?"

"39."

"Wait...that's this room." Brian examined my key curiously. Father said he was bright and I'd take his word for it, but right now Brian didn't seem too sharp.

"Oh no, John. This must be some mistake. You can't be my roommate." Brian sighed. "I'll go talk to Lord Reid and fix this mess."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say. His reaction was so disappointing.

Before Brian left, he knocked on the door to the adjoining water closet in morse code. _'Stay in there!'_ Brian must be hiding someone in there.

"Scaring away the rats." He lied unaware that I knew morse code. "I'll be back." In one swift move thanks to those long legs Brian was able to step outside and shut the door behind him.

 _"Fear not, darling. I'll see to it that he lets you stay. No harm shall be brought to you in my opera house."_ A smooth posh voice whispered.

I looked around for the source, but I was alone. There was no way that voice had come from the person in the water closet. It would have sounded muffled. "Hello?" I called. No answer. I checked under the beds and then in the wardrobe. I found my answer on the wardrobe floor. A single red rose rested atop an envelope marked _John_ in that same familiar handwriting _._

"Angel." I gasped. I opened the envelope and read the letter.

_My dearest John,_  
_I'd like to extend to you a most gracious welcome to my opera house. I am sorry to hear about the tragic loss of Arthur. He was a hardworking man who sought the best in others. The world needs more people like him. You must be struggling with insurmountable grief and you have my utmost sympathy._  
_I hope you grow to like it here. You'll find that I treat my loyal residents like family. Always do your best work and you shall be rewarded. I do not ask for much, merely your respect. If you are anything like your father, we should get along just fine. Listen for me and look out for my roses._  
_Yours,_  
_Mr. Mercury_

I jumped when there was another knocking from the water closet. _'Can I come out'_

I slipped Mr. Mercury's letter back into the envelope and tucked the rose behind my ear. Perhaps this was a riddle and my angel of music was trying to determine if I was worthy. I knocked back in morse code ' _Yes'_

Father said the angel of music never showed his face, but my heart raced as the knob turned. Mr. Mercury would surely come out to greet me.

"Oh!" I gasped, covering my eyes as Clare stepped out indecently wearing nothing but a thin night dress. She screamed. "What the fuck? You're not Brian!"

Well that explained a lot. Brian was sneaking in his wife from the women's quarters across the hall. No wonder he didn't want me here. The two probably preferred private nights. "I'm sorry!" I cried. "I won't look!"

"Y-You didn't see anything?" Clare let out a sigh of relief. "Okay we're good then."

"We're good?" I translated that to her changing into something more appropriate. "Does that mean I can look now?" I made the mistake of opening my eyes.

Clare had no makeup and was suddenly flat chested. It was clear now that Clare was no woman, but he was by far the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on.

"Shit!" He swore. "No! No! It's not what you think! I-I'm not some cross dressing freak! I did this to save my sister. You have to understand. Clare is only 16. She couldn't be sent away to marry a stranger. I had no choice but to trade places with her."

"It's alright." I assured him after I had caught my breath. "And I don't think cross dressers are freaks. That isn't a very nice thing to say at all. Society can dictate all it wants but I believe people should be free to express themselves however they choose regardless of gender."

"You are certainly ahead of your times, John Deacon." He remarked casting his gaze down to the wedding ring on his finger. Like Brian there was a soulmark on the back of his hand with just 3 letters written inside: BHM.

"Please you mustn't tell a soul. As far as anyone is concerned Brian is married to Clare and Roger is living in the convent. If anyone finds out the truth, Brian's mother will lose the manor, and I don't know what in God's name will happen to me and Brian. Being in a homosexual relationship is no better than having a curse. I really didn't mean to fall in love with Brian. This was all meant to protect Clare. How was I supposed to know that Brian was my soulmate? Oh John, please, please, don't ruin this. Brian and I are happy together and Clare is safe. Promise to keep our secret."

"Of course. I'm good at keeping secrets." I told him.

"From my experience, that means you have a secret of your own." Roger said. "Fair is fair. Open up!"

No! Even if Roger trusted me now, I couldn't entrust him. I promised my father on his death bed. No one will ever know about my curse. It was a secret I'd take with me to the grave.

Just then Brian returned appearing annoyed. "Well John, I am currently being blackmailed into letting you room with m—Roger, I told you to stay in there!"

"I understand morse code." I announced. "Roger told me everything."

"John, this isn't what it looks like. I can explain I swear." Brian cried.

"It's okay, Bri. He knows and he'll keep our secret." Roger said. "Now who the hell is blackmailing you?"

"Who else? Mr. Mercury of course. Threatened to cut the strings of my original Red Special if I didn't let John stay with us."

"The one you built with your father?" I gasped. There was no way my angel could ever be that cruel.

" _I did it only to protect you, my darling."_ His voice bounced across the room. _"Brian, Roger, take good care of John or else there shall be trouble."_

"Oh yeah. Did I mention that this place was haunted?" Roger chuckled.


	2. And the Story Tellers Say...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Roger tell John how they met each other and broke their curses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The focus of this story is going to be on Deacury mainly, but this chapter is extremely Maylor centric. I call it the Blind AU 2.0. Spoilers, this chapter is flashback heavy, and not everything is as it seems...

_Roger's POV_

"Sing it for me again please." Clare yawned resting her sleepy head on my shoulder. "Again?" I laughed. "Clare, that's the third time in a row. I've written other songs besides that one you know."

"Oh yes like your masterpiece song professing your love for a carriage." She replied sarcastically. "Spare me, Roger. Sing about the magic again. It's my favorite. Please, please, please."

We could all use a little bit of magic especially me. I pulled Clare up against me, edging us closer to the warmth spot of the window sill. "Sunrise." I whispered, knowing it only from feeling the heat from the rays.

 _"One dream, one soul, one prize, one goal..."_ I sang softly.

_"One golden glance of what should be."_

Clare shifted slightly, making a soft cooing noise. I ran my fingers across her eyelids confirming that they were closed. It was no longer nighttime, but what difference did it make?

_"...One shaft of light that shows the way_

_No mortal man can win this day_

_The bell that rings inside your mind_

_It's a challenging the doors of time..."_

I smiled as Clare snored. She slept so peacefully like an angel. "I bet you look really cute, sweet sister." I whispered, brushing her soft hair away from her sleeping face. "I promise to always keep you safe."

I continued to sing, longingly as if the magic were real and I'd finally be freed of this curse. But I knew no one was coming to save me. I'd given up on finding my soulmate long ago.

_"...The waiting seems eternity_   
_The day will dawn of sanity_   
_It's a kind of magic..."_

My fate was set and while there can be only one who can save me, I was resolved to staying on my family's farm in darkness for the rest of my life. Ever since Clare was born, protecting her was my biggest priority. It was difficult not to think of myself at times, but there was no point. I touched the back of my hand again reading the poem conveniently inscribed for me in Braille. _"If you wish to reverse the blind, it is your soulmate whom you must find."_

"I can't find anything in this darkness let alone you." I groaned. Thinking about the possibilities and the world I was missing out on only angered me.So I sang and took comfort from Clare sleeping in my arms. She would always be my eyes and I'd repay her by keeping her safe from all the dangers in this world.

" _Cockadoodledoo!"_ Yes roosters can be dangerous, but mostly annoying. Growing up on this farm I was used to that damn bird acting as my alarm. "Shush!" I slammed my fist against the window. "You'll wake Clare you miserable creature!" The rooster ignored me and continued to cluck away. I grasped for the lever and rolled down the window. "GALILEO!" I screamed. Sure enough I heard the ruffling of feathers and the bird flew away. However, in scaring him off, I woke Clare.

"Roggie, there's a feather on your head." She giggled plucking it off. "There you go."

***

"Wait!" John interrupted. "Why would saying Galileo make the rooster fly away? I don't get it."

"Obviously. I didn't just say Galileo." I clarified. "I screamed it. Like this: GALILEO! GALILEO! GALILEO!"

 _"Roger, darling, we've spoken about resting your voice before the show. No more Galileos. Why don't you continue on with your story at a comfortable volume."_ Mr. Mercury requested. John appeared unnerved by the ghost's sudden input, but I just shrugged it off. I had come to accept that Mr. Mercury was always listening to us and could intervene at any moment.

"Of course." I obeyed. "If anything else in my story involves raising my voice, I'll have Brian do it for me. You can spare a lung or two, right Bri?"

"Um...well if it were a life or death situation of course I'd be your donor without question, but--"

"--Excellent!" I proclaimed. "Now where were we?"....

***

"Clare, honey, we have some exciting news." Mother announced as I set down my plate at the breakfast table.

"We're getting a pony?" Clare chirped.

"Um no. You're getting engaged!"

"WHAT?" I shrieked dropping my fork. "You're joking, right?" Clare couldn't be getting married. She was only 16, still a child in my eyes. Well my eyes weren't working, but still.

"Roger, this hasn't anything to do with you." Mother dismissed.

"Our family will greatly benefit from this union." Father said. "The Mays are rich. When you marry their son, we'll no longer be poor dirt farmers. In fact we can sell the farm and live in the May manor like nobles."

 _"When_ you marry? So it's already been decided, then. You're just going to sell Clare off to some rich snob like she's a cattle? How dare you!" I cried.

"Mother, Father, I greatly appreciate this man's offer for my hand in marriage, but I'd like to decline. I'm not ready to be wed." Clare stated.

"We've already made the arrangements. This is what's best for our family. Your brother can't do shit 'cause he's blind so you marrying rich is our last hope." Father said.

"I help out more on the farm than you do!" I snarled, flinging my plate at him. I heard a crack and Mom screamed. "Did I hit him?" I asked.

"No." Clare replied. "The plate hit the floor."

"Bummer!" I sighed.

Father pushed me to the ground. "You clean up that mess, boy! You good for nothing trouble maker!"

"Careful, Roggie, the broken glass is sharp!" Clare warned as I picked up the shards.

"I ought to stab you with those little pieces of glass." Father scoffed. "Now when we're living fancy you can't go 'round embarrassing us by throwing plates like a barbarian. The Mays will kick us out if you pull dumb stunts like that."

"That's alright." I replied coldly. "I'm not going to be living with the Mays because Clare is not marrying their son."

"Roger, this isn't for you to decide." Mother scolded.

"But I don't want it either. Don't I get to decide?" Clare cried. "I want to marry for love. I don't even know this man."

"He could hurt her!"I exclaimed. "Imagine your precious baby in the arms of a stranger. Hell, what if he rapes her?"

"They'll be married. Then it ain't rape." Father replied. "But Clare, you should start making babies with him soon as possible. That way we'll have a whole bunch of heirs to the May's fortune and we'll never be poor again!"

Clare was crying. I could hear her sobs. It was in that moment I knew that this arrangement wasn't going to happen. Somehow I'd get Clare out of this mess. I ignored the sound of Clare running to our shared room and pretended to be the dumb blind boy my parents thought I was. I cleaned up the glass without saying a word.

"I know she's young, but if she marries rich, she'll have a better quality of life." Mother sighed. "We all will. Maybe in time she'll fall in love with him."

"That doesn't matter. She'll have money. That's the important thing. Besides Brian's a guitarist for the opera house orchestra. Clare loves music and all that shit. That's good enough. Right?" Father reasoned.

"Opera is so high class." Mother proclaimed. "I'm sure Clare will develop a taste for the finer things."

"It's settled then. First thing tomorrow I'll set up the wagon and Clare and I will go to the opera house. I'll try to make it a one day trip so you won't have to be alone manning the farm all by yourself." Father said.

Tomorrow? Shit! That didn't give me much time to plan. "What about me, Father?" I blurted. "Mother won't be all by herself. I'm here to man the farm."

"Should we tell him about our special plans for him?" Mother asked.

I hated when they spoke about me like I wasn't there. Just because I couldn't see them didn't mean I wasn't alert and listening.

"You know what we might as well kill two birds with one stone and take care of that issue tomorrow as well." Father said. "Roger, how'd you like to live in a convent?"

"I wouldn't." I said sharply.

"I knew he'd be resistant." Mom sighed.

"What are you talking about? Are you trying to send me away too? This isn't fair. Why even have children if you're just going to get rid of them!" I shouted.

"We won't be needing the labor anymore now that we're selling the farm." Father explained. "We thought it might be better for you if you lived in a convent instead of with us and the Mays. Who knows maybe if you pray hard enough you'll get your eyes finally working."

I was not made for that disciplined lifestyle. Braille bibles were difficult to come by so what good would religion do me? "A convent? No way! I'm not gonna be yelled at by a bunch of nuns whenever I dare to speak my mind."

That got me in trouble. I heard the familiar clink of Father unbuckling his belt. Shit! He was going to hit me with it again. I scrambled to our room as fast as I could, locking the door behind me. He banged on the door like an enraged monster. "ROGER TAYLOR GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!"

"W-What did you do?" I jumped when I heard Clare's voice. Oh yeah. I forgot she had escaped in here too. "His anger will die down soon...give it a few hours."

"We'll just hide out in here like always, won't we?" She sighed. I heard her creep to the window sill our favorite spot. I joined her.

"Roggie, I don't want to get married to someone I've never met. I'm afraid." She confided.

"Don't be afraid. You're not going through with it. I'll figure something out. I swear I will." I vowed. "Even if I convince them to send you to the convent instead. At least you'll be safer there."

"Convent? Hmm. I love singing in the choir and going to church. Being a nun could be fun." She mused.

I shook my head. Only Clare Taylor would say something like that. "You'd be the only friendly nun. If you teach Sunday School, none of the kids would be afraid of you."

"I'd much rather do that than marry a stranger." Clare replied wistfully. "Do we know anythingabout the May's son besides his wealth?"

"Well, his name's Brian and he's a guitarist. That's all I got for now." I informed.

"Sounds to me like he's a better suitor for you." She murmured.

"Believe me I'd trade places with you if I could." I remarked.

Clare stepped out of my embrace and down from the sill. "Let's do it then!" She declared.

"Do what?" I questioned.

"Trade places. I can go be a nun in the convent while you pretend to be me."

***

"Hold it!" Brian blurted. "There's no way it was Clare's idea."

I frowned. "Of course it was Clare's idea. She's very clever."

"Yes, but you're the prankster. I can't imagine your sweet sister coming up with something so deceitful out of the blue. You must have influenced her somehow." Brian reasoned.

"How would you know?" I challenged. "You weren't there. It was just me and Clare."

"Whatever. Just keep telling the story please." John prompted. "You were getting right to the good part."

I nodded. "So Clare came up with this scheme and I said..."

***

"Are you mad? That would never work."

"Why not?" Clare pouted. "If Father misplaces his spectacles he'll be blind as you. All we need to do is wear each other's clothes and we can pull it off. The nunnery will accept any child of faith with open arms. All you have to do is pose as me for a bit."

"And what happens when Brian discovers that I'm not the bird he's expecting and calls off the wedding?" I prompted.

"Don't let him find out. You can run away after a few days. Go find your soulmate, and finally see the world." She giggled.

In a perfect world, we'd implement this plan without any hicks. Yet, I didn't need vision to see the many ways in which this could go wrong. Most obviously. "We're nothing alike. Nobody will fall for it."

"Here. Give me your hand, Roggie." Clare brought my hand to her hair. "Feel that? Now feel your own hair." Same length and texture. I never really bothered getting my hair cut because it made no difference to me. So as far as touch went our hair was identical, and I was told we were both blonde. "Now feel this." Clare allowed me to palpate her face followed by my own observing the similar structures. "We're more alike than you think."

She was serious, and when it came to protecting her I was serious as well. "If you really think we can do this, then I don't see why we can't. Well frankly I can't see at all, but you know what I mean." I said. It was better than no plan at all, right?

Clare hugged me. "I know we can do this Roggie, and I promise you won't regret this. Now let's play dress up!"

We spent the rest of the day locked in our room trying on each other's clothes. Clare's heavy dresses were itchy and restricting whereas she found my trousers a delight. In baby steps Clare taught me how to apply makeup. She tasked me with using simple hand motions repeatedly until it became muscle memory. Grasp the liner and slide it in an ovular motion across my eyelids. Subtly twirl the mascara up and down against my lashes. I lost track of how many times I did this, washed it off with a cloth, and repeated. By nightfall it became second nature. My training was complete. I was ready to be a woman. What I wasn't ready for, however, was falling head over heels for Clare's fiancé.

***

"Ahh, baby! I love you too." Brian cooed.

"Shut up!" I was sick of these interruptions.

"Sorry." Brian apologized.

Deaky murmured something about us being such a cliche married couple.

"Now let me continue..."

***

I normally loved carriage rides but now I had to deal with nerves on top of Father complaining about how blind he was having lost his spectacles. Fucking hypocrite! As a lady I was expected to be seen rather than heard. Now that we had dropped off Clare at the convent in my place there was no one to kick me or nudge me remaining me of the role I was playing. Acting was certainly not my forte.

Finally I got fed up with Father's rambles. "You can see light and color!" Those were only things I could imagine.

"You don't believe me, do you, Clare? I can't see a thing without my glasses. The world is a blur to me." He exclaimed.

"Well maybe now you get a small taste of what Roger feels every day of his bloody life." I countered.

"What has gotten into you, girl? You better not give Master May this kind of attitude." Father shouted. "You treat him with respect, you hear me!"

"Yeah I'll treat him with respect." I resisted the urge to spit over the side of the carriage. ' _About as much respect I have for you.'_ I thought.

Now that I knew Clare was safe, I intended to focus on myself and how to escape this impending marriage that would end in disaster. Fake my own death perhaps. That was always an option. The carriage came to a halt as I continued to plot.

"Alright, get the fuck out and have a good life. I'll see you at your wedding." Father said abruptly.

"W-What?" I had no clue where we were.

"You heard me. Get out. I hope to make it back to the farm by nightfall. You're a big girl, Clare. If you're old enough to get married then you're old enough to escort yourself from the carriage to the opera house." Father roughly pushed me out of the carriage and I tumbled to the ground. I heard the horse galloping away. I panicked. Where was I? How far away was the opera house? I was all alone in an unfamiliar place without my trusted guide dog. He had escorted Clare instead so no one would grow suspicious.

"You there! Girl! Get off the street before you're trampled by a horse and buggy!" Someone shouted.

I scrambled to my feet and dashed toward the sound of his voice nearly colliding with him. "Easy there." Hands dusted off my frock. "You're alright now. Tell me your name, young lady."

"Ro—Clare Taylor." I put my hand down remembering to courtesy instead of shake this man's hand which worked out for me because I had no clue where his hand was.

"Miss Taylor! It's about time you arrived. Master May is waiting to meet you. I am Lord Reid co-owner alongside Master Foster of the Rhye Opera House. Come, let's go inside where you can freshen up. The journey here must have been quite tiring."

I linked arms with Reid and tried not to let my impairment show. Clare wasn't supposed to be blind.

"And who is this pretty thing?" If that was Brian's voice asking I would kill him. He sounded like such a pervert. A hand touched my chin forcing me to look up presumably toward his face. "Are you auditioning to be our new lead soprano? Maybe you can sing for me in my private quarters."

"That's enough Ray. This is Clare Taylor, the one marrying Brian. She is not for you." Reid chastised. Oh thank goodness! "Clare, this is Master Foster."

"Pity." Ray groaned.

"Touch me again and you'll pay." I hissed in his direction. Somewhere in the distance I heard faint laughter. Who else was here?

After an endless trip up circular staircases where I struggled not to trip, we finally reached our destination. "Alright. This is your room. Freshen up and Brian will meet you in the parlor when you are ready." Reid instructed. I heard him shut the door and I let out a sigh of relief.

Okay time to escape. I felt around until I discovered a window. Perfect! It probably wasn't that far of a jump.

 _"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It's about 10 stories down."_ I froze realizing I wasn't alone. I couldn't make out where the voice was coming from but it continued to speak. _"My apologies for leaving you a rose and letter of welcome you won't be able to see or read. I was unaware you were blind."_

"W-Where are you?" I asked grasping air trying to find this mysterious man. He was nowhere to be found. "Are you a ghost?"

_"I'm Mr. Mercury. Those blasted buffoons out there will tell you otherwise but this is rightfully my opera house. I'm lead composer and opera writer, and I give production notes throughout rehearsal so my stars don't embarrass me out there on the stage. But most importantly I consider my loyal performers, musicians, and those who live here to be my family. I take that very seriously. What are your intentions with Brian? I already know you aren't who you say you are, Roger. So do not lie to me, darling. What do you want with him? Because if you hurt him in any way, you will be in a very precarious predicament."_

"I'm only doing this so _he_ won't hurt Clare. My sister is 16 and a living angel. I would never let her marry a stranger." I explained.

 _"That's very noble of you. I can assure you Brian as well means no harm and is only doing this as a means to save his mother from getting kicked out of her home. Both of you have caring hearts. So long as no one gets hurt, I will not meddle in your relationship. You have my word."_ Mr. Mercury promised.

"There is no relationship. I'm running away. I want to explore the world and find my soulmate."

_"Don't we all, dear."_

I tried one more time to determine Mr. Mercury's whereabouts before giving up altogether.

There was a knock on the door. "Hi Clare. It's Brian. Sorry to bother you. When you're decent I'd like to come in and meet you if you'd please let me."

"Fuck!" I shouted automatically. Not very lady like but it was an accidental slip.

And then the most miraculous thing happened. Out of nowhere an image appeared before my eyes. Without any warning, the black void I had known my entire life faded way to a strange new world full of fascinating foreign objects. **_'_** _I must be dreaming!'_ Was my last thought before I passed out from shock.

When I returned to consciousness the first thing I noticed was the throbbing pain on the back of my hand where my soulmark was. I ignored the discomfort when I blinked open my eyes witnessing light and color for the first time. I sobbed as I tried to make sense of everything I was looking at. I couldn't believe this was happening. I reached up to touch the curly figure in front of me. I gasped recognizing the structure of a face. This was the first person I had ever laid eyes on...and he was so perfect. I continued to bawl.

"My God! You're my soulmate!" Brian was crying too. I could tell by the sounds, but seeing the tears leak from his eyes was something else.

"I-I'm not Clare." I choked. "My name is Roger."

"Roger..." I touched his moving lips watching as they twirled exposing his teeth. Was that what a smile looked like? I sat up slowly deciding to boldly become more familiar with Brian's mouth. I kissed him. "Fuck me." I groaned. "With pleasure." he responded.

***

"Okay! That did not happen at all!" Brian cried. "I was a gentleman. We only kissed."

John had turned bright pink now that the story had taken this unexpected turn.

"I remember us making passionate love the moment we met." I stated.

"Not the moment we met, Rog. That came later. What came first were all of your questions about the world. You were in your cute puppy dog phase learning to associate sights with concepts you thought you already knew like a toddler learning language for the first time."

"Ahh that sounds so adorable." John squealed. "I hope you were patient and helped him adjust, Bri."

"I tried to be."

"Stop being humble. I couldn't ask for a better support system." I kissed Brian's cheek. "I love you." I whispered in his ear.

"I love you too sweetheart." He replied.

"If you really loved me you'd let me finish the story." I complained.

"I would if you'd tell it accurately." Brian exclaimed.

"Fine, why don't you tell it then." I scoffed.

"Very well." He responded.

Oh no! Did I just relinquish my story telling rights? Shit!

***  
 _Brian's POV_

I had mixed feelings about my curse and some day breaking it by finding my soulmate. Most days I loathed my curse for all the suffering it brought on, but in a way I was grateful for it.

Being born into a wealthy family, my parents tried to spoil me rotten any chance they got. Mother nearly perished giving birth to me and was unable to conceive another child,so I was their precious miracle baby who was showered with nothing but love despite my curse. I considered myself very fortunate. Most cursed individuals are sent away at a very young age to "asylums" where they are abused and exploited. Good parents like my own raise us in secrecy so we don't suffer the same fate, but cases like mine are rare. Curses end in tragedy more often than not.

While my parents kept me isolated, I never felt unloved or unwanted. I understood it was for my own good I be kept out of society, and my parents rewarded me with pets, books, and nearly any other material commodity the heart could desire. Yet, it was my curse I had to thank for keeping me well grounded and conscious of the feelings of others rather than snobbish or greedy.

Growing up I didn't comprehend my curse, but I knew I was different than most. Father always told me it was a blessing in disguise and being more sensitive could benefit me in some way. However I could sense his underlying sadness and fear, still too young to interpret what all of these absorbed emotions meant. I couldn't translate how or why I felt unbearable discomfort in certain situations, specifically when I was around other creatures. Early on Mother and Father allowed me to eat meals alone because if I was anywhere near a carcass of an animal I could sense the despair and suffering of the creature before it had ended up on the plate. Unless I was only exposed to a strictly plant based diet I'd end up in tears shortly after the food was served. I knew this wasn't normal behavior, but I couldn't help it at all.

It wasn't until my beloved cat Pixie died that I finally understood. _'Pain of others may bring about your demise; Find your soulmate and you shall rise.'_ Directly feeling her die was agony beyond my darkest dream. I was left debilitated in my bed for days until the feeling finally passed. For me that moment marked the end of my childhood.

I could tell you for hours and hours how much I hated my curse. Coping with the physical and or emotional pain of anyone I came into contact with was dreadful. However, at the end of the day it made me more empathetic and shaped the man I had become. If meeting my soulmate took that away from me, I feared we wouldn't share a proper connection. How could he properly express his emotions to me if I could no longer sense them? Oh and then there was that little problem...

_"You're a homosexual?"_

"Shush! Not so loud!" I hissed at Mr. Mercury. He had the most annoying habit of "showing up" at the most unwanted times. I never saw this invisible man, nobody did. My friend Mary supposedly knew the most about him but she was elusive. I had an advantage over the rest becauseI could sense Mr. Mercury's pain. Almost all of it was emotional. He lived a sad lonely life I could tell. When he dwelled on certain things if he was within my range, an overwhelming feelings of depression would grip me as well.We worked well together musically. I would transcribe many of his songs from piano to guitar and vice versa. Emotionally, we clicked despite not truly knowing each other. Well Mr. Mercury knew me, but I didn't know him aside from his voice and his music.

_"Darling, there's no shame in looking at a photograph of another man. You do not have to hide it like some sort of explosive."_

I put down the advertisement for the latest edition in men's fashion swimwear and flipped it to the other side showing the female in her swim-dress. No one could know.

" _There are much worse things you can be other than gay."_ Mr. Mercury said. _"You should embrace it."_

I rolled my eyes. "Be proud of it? Next you'll want me to throw a parade celebrating my sin."

 _"Loving who you love is not a sin. Maybe some day in the future there will be pride parades honoring our existence. Won't that be something special?"_ Mr. Mercury mused.

"I have to remain in the closet. Father is dying and the only way to keep our manor is to wed a woman. I cannot allow Mother to get kicked out onto the streets."

_"Your father misses you, Brian. He understands why you're being so distant, but he misses you dearly."_

I was avoiding Father so I didn't have to endure his suffering along with my own grief. Before he got too ill, he and I built a guitar together. I cherished the Red Special beyond words. I ignored Mr. Mercury and began to play drowning out my sadness.

_"Clare Taylor is a farm girl who loves singing in church and helps care for her blind brother. Perhaps you can have a platonic marriage."_

How did Mr. Mercury know more about my fiancé than me? All I had was her name. "She sounds lovely." I sighed. "I'm doing this for Mother and my family's estate. Our relationship won't be romantic. I'm unable to please her in that way."

_"I know. Believe me I know."_

Father died the following day and I was overcome with despair. Marriage was the last thing on my mind. I couldn't focus on anything but missing Father and how I was unable to be there for him in his final days.

***

"Oh John! Please don't cry. It's alright." He cringed and became utterly stiff when I attempted to hug him. Reading his body language I knew to let him go.

"I miss my Father too." John sniffled. "I'm sorry, Brian."

"Don't apologize. Loss and grief are natural parts of life unfortunately. It hurts and can be inconsolable, but we just have to accept our feelings and try our best to work through them." I didn't know what else to say. John nodded accepting my words of comfort.

Roger offered John a tissue and I continued with my story.

***

Rumors of the beautiful farm girl arriving at the opera house spread like wildfire. I felt more sick than excited. I anxiously paced the parlor waiting to meet Clare for the first time. What was I to say? " _I was forced into this arrangement and have no interest in you."_ That would break the poor girl's heart. And I would feel that pain firsthand. Eventually I'd have to let her know the truth. I couldn't live with a lie.After waiting for an hour I grew restless. What if Clare also had no desires for this wedding? It was quite possible her parents needed the money to care for their blind son. She could be forced into this predicament against her will just like me.

I perked up when I heard footsteps. Only it wasn't Clare who arrived. I frowned when I was greeted with gruff mutter from Foster. "So did you meet your lady yet?"

"No sir. I'm still waiting." I stated.

"What the hell is taking that bitch so long to leave her room? I'll go fetch her."

"NO!" I cried. I did not trust Ray Foster anywhere near a girl of any kind. He may be a nobleman but he was far from a gentleman. My curse made me conscious of the plights of others. I had a duty to protect those in need. "Don't bother. I'll go to her quarters myself." It was too forward of a move, but if Foster forced himself into Clare's room, he could rape her. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't do everything in my power to prevent that possibility.

I knocked on the door. "Hi Clare. It's Brian. Sorry to bother you. When you're decent I'd like to come in and meet you if you'd please let me."That was polite enough and didn't make me sound intimidating. I didn't want to frighten her. "Fuck!" That certainly didn't sound like a woman's voice swearing on the other side of the door.

A sudden pain surged from the back of my hand. That was where my soulmark was. I heard a high pitch scream and a crash and disregarded my own pain. "Hang on, Clare!" I shouted. The door was surprisingly unlocked so I burst inside to save her.

She was lying on the floor unconscious. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't I feel her pain? More importantly since when did I start finding women attractive? Well more specifically this woman. Clare was gorgeous, a sleeping beauty in my eyes. The pain on my hand slowly subsided. I dared to tear my eyes away from Clare for a moment to look at my mark. The poem was no longer inscribed on my skin. Instead the marking read RMT.

Clare's eyes fluttered open. Intelligent bright blue eyes sucked me in as she stared up at me like I was the first man she had ever seen in her life. Tears flooded both of our eyes. Her hand explored my face. I spotted a soulmark on her hand as it touched me. BHM confirmed what I knew in my heart to be true.

"My God! You're my soulmate!" Years of pondering and yearning were finally through. For better or for worse my curse was lifted, and I could very well be falling in love.

"I-I'm not Clare." My lady spoke. "My name is Roger."

Okay he wasn't my lady, but I didn't give a damn. Now I knew what the R in RMT stood for. "Roger." I repeated as the angel stared up at me with perplexed wonder. He traced my lips with his fingers and then surprised me with a deep kiss. I never knew I could feel such positive emotions overpowering all my other ones. I often forgot that there were other feelings to welcome besides pain, fear, and sadness. I no longer needed my curse to feel connected to the world around me. I was in tune with my Roger. Our breaths were in sync and our heartbeats matched as we kissed.

I regained my senses when we parted. "You're not Clare." The euphoria faded.

Roger just stared at me blankly like he didn't believe I was real. Likewise, I questioned whether such a pretty creature could exist outside of my imagination. I was getting off track.

"Roger, you're the one for me, my soulmate, but I'm engaged to Clare. You look like a woman but that is not enough to justify our love in the eyes of the law."

"Eyes." He repeated with the cutest giggle. "I have eyes! Real eyes! They actually work."

"I'm sorry?"

"I see you!" Roger squealed.He blinked several times. "I can see! I don't believe this!" More tears spilled down his cheeks.

RMT. "Roger M Taylor. You're Clare's brother." I realized. Blindness was his curse. He was seeing the world for the first time because of me and I was here to witness this magnificent moment. I went quiet allowing him to observe all the new sights. Roger's face lit up in awe as he stared at everything around him even the crevices in the wall. His hands returned to my face touching my extremities and naming them in deep concentration. "Nose, left cheek, right cheek, upper lip, lower lip...You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen." Roger gasped when my cheeks turned red. "How did you change color like that?"

I laughed. "I'm the only man you've ever seen so of course I'm the most beautiful. Have you seen your own face? That is true beauty. Look in the mirror and then you'll find me merely plain by comparison."

"Brian, you're my soulmate. I could never find you plain. Even if I were still blind I'd deem you handsome from your facial structure alone." He touched one of my many dangling curls. "And your wondrous hair! I love it!" Roger squealed once more. "And you keep doing that thing where your...umm..." He touched my cheeks again. "Cheeks—yes cheeks—change colors."

"Of course they do if you keep making me blush with all your compliments."

"Blush." Roger repeated. "Is that what it looks like? Am I a different color now too? I feel flushed."

"Yes your pretty face is pinkand I could look at it all day long." I confirmed only making him blush harder.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy." Roger admitted.

"Me neither." I replied. "May I kiss you again?"

"Yes Mr. May, you may." Roger teased.

Kissing Roger was like magic. I never wanted this to end. Of course reason dictated most of my thoughts. Even if I was on cloud 9 I still needed answers.

"Why are you here instead of Clare?"

Roger bit down on his lip apprehensively. "I didn't know you were so kind and wonderful. Please don't take this the wrong way, Brian. Clare is 16 years old. I couldn't trust you...not you per say, but a stranger. She's too young and innocent to have some man defile her."

What an admirable brother! It was a dumb idea, but Roger's heart was in the right place. Now if only we could sort this mess out and find a way toward a happily ever after.

"No one told me Clare's age. That is too young for me. I can understand why you wanted to protect her. But I need to get married because of that blasted inheritance law. Mother could lose her home."I explained.

"Then marry me." Roger suggested. "I can continue posing as Clare. No one will know. The real Clare is in a convent. It was difficult to say goodbye, but she seems happy and was always very spiritual so I think it's a good fit for her.."

"The convent down the road? I can arrange for us to visit her any time you'd like."I didn't want the siblings to be separated. Wait. Once again I was getting distracted by frivolous details. "Roger, how can I marry you? No priest would ever allow the union of two men."

"You won't be marrying me, silly, at least not on paper. You'll be marrying Clare." He explained.

"If we get caught, we'll get in so much trouble. I don't even know what will happen to us." I said.

"Then let's not get caught."

***

"Your plan failed." John stated. "You got caught by me."

"But you won't tell. We trust you, John. You promised you'd keep our secret. And if you go back on that promise I'll have no choice but to kill you." Roger joked.

Well Mr. Mercury didn't his teasing lightly. " _Roger, if you bring any sort of harm to Deaky I swear I will smite you. You shall face the full extent of my wrath. I will make you beg for mercy wishing you had never been born at all and then your wish shall be granted because I will end your life where you stand. Am I perfectly clear, darling?"_

"Hurting Roger will only hurt me. I thought I had your protection, Mr. Mercury." I said tentatively.

_"Wise words, dear. I suppose you're right. We could all kill each other but then who would be left to perform the opera. Carry on, carry on."_

***

"Indoor plumbing is such a novelty. I never thought I'd experience it, let alone _see_ it. I never thought I'd see anything." Roger emerged from the water closet no longer disguised as a woman. It wasn't fair. In both genders he was such a natural beauty. I couldn't bring myself to look away. It was a sin to have my bride to be in my bedroom before we were married, but I tried to justify it. Roger couldn't sleep alone. He hardly knew up from down. Someone had to show him what was what.

"What's that?"

"A bottle of champagne courtesy of Mr. Mercury." I knew it was from my invisible friend because there was a rose beside it. I read the note beside the gift. "Cheers to the new happy couple."

"That's very kind of him. I wish Lord Reid and Master Foster were as gracious. Why doesn't Mr. Mercury run the opera house instead of them?" Roger wondered.

_"Make no mistake, darling. This is my opera house. Those two fools think they manage things around here but they are wrong. I am the one in charge."_

I chuckled as Roger twirled around restlessly in search of the voice. "You'll get used to it, love. Don't worry."

"So he really is a ghost? Even with vision I can't see him?" Roger frowned. "How do we know he's even real?"

_"You'll never see me, but I can assure you I'm as real as any other man. Now I must oversee the auditions for our new soprano. Unless you think you can sing any better than the girls coming in."_

"Is that a challenge?" Roger beamed. " _Aaaaah! Aaaah! Aaaah!"_ He crooned each note getting progressively higher.

"Hot damn!" My jaw dropped. "My wife can sing."

***

"And that's how I became lead soprano of the opera." Roger concluded.

Somehow I was no longer the one telling the story, but John was more or less caught up now so it hardly mattered.

 _"Unless someone better comes round."_ Mr. Mercury told Roger. " _Deaky, darling, do you sing?"_

"M-Me? Why do you call me that?" John stammered.

 _"Because John is such a common name and I don't wish to equate you to John Reid. If I were to call you Deacon I'd feel like I was talking to a religious authority. Thus Deaky._ " Mr. Mercury explained. " _Now sing for me, dear."_

John shook his head. "I don't sing."

_"Well then perhaps it's time you learned. Meet me in the third wing backstage after tonight's show. I shall give you your first proper singing lesson."_

**Author's Note:**

> Dun, dun, duuunnn! Next chapter will be more expositional Maylor and then we'll be getting to the Deacury. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. See you soon!


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